


Untidy & Cliche

by thalialunacy



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M, Morning After, fuckyeahurbine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1809118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalialunacy/pseuds/thalialunacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one where Karl sleeps over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untidy & Cliche

**Author's Note:**

> from this prompt at [fuckyeahurbine](http://fuckyearhurbine.tumblr.com): karl is exhausted from filming almost human and chris lets him crash at his place in LA.

Karl’s shoes look really good in his foyer.

Chris notes this on his way to get the paper. The grey dawn has dawned, but it’s early enough that the air has a general sort of quietness, interrupted only by garbage trucks and joggers panting by. He’s tempted to stay out and have a cigarette, but he’s in only his pajama pants and that’s a hard sell, once he’s back inside where his cigarettes actually are.

After all, he has Karl Urban’s shoes.

And his jacket, thrown on the back of the couch. And his shirt, which Chris picks up from the hallway floor on his way back to the bedroom, left there in a haze of exhaustion-fueled adrenaline where normally they both wouldn’t be so untidy and cliche.

He stalls out at the bedroom door, shirt in his hand and his intention of cleaning up the rest abandoning him at the sight of Karl in the bed. In his bed. The blankets cover all of him, and he’s on his stomach so his face is all smushed, but Chris is still riveted to the sight.

That is, until he drops the paper and shirt to the ground and climbs in with him, starfishing across Karl without preamble. Karl grunts, but easily moves until they’re a pile of comfortable, if somewhat stinky, limbs. “What time is it?” Karl murmurs, because he does have a flight to catch.

Chris frowns, grumbling, and turns his head into Karl’s neck. “We have an hour.”

Karl blinks open one eye. “Until the alarm?”

"Until the apocalypse. Or the alarm."

Chris practically feels Karl thinking, then suddenly he’s feeling Karl roll them until he’s settled in between Chris’s thighs. “Well, hello,” he says.

"Hello," Karl replies with a grin.

The hour stretches out in front of them. Chris grins right back.


End file.
